


Hamilton Oneshots. (Taking Requests)

by Ellie_Laurens



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse induced blindness, Blindness, Child Abuse, Guns, M/M, Pain, Police calls, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2018-10-04 00:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10262204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie_Laurens/pseuds/Ellie_Laurens
Summary: Just a bunch of oneshots.





	1. Saving Bell

John stood on the field. Him and his Battalion were fighting Mulligan’s fleet. According to the other, he had to kill a few soldiers so it wouldn’t be suspicious. He trusted Mulligan, he would only fire at a few soldiers, one or two actually landing at most. He had promised to make sure no soldiers would be able to fire at him, with a landed shot, but this was war. Killing the commander of an army seems to be the best choice most of the time. One shot, another dead Red Coat. Another, one more Red Coat down. A third, one of Lauren’s soldiers. He looked at who shot the man and quickly pulled the trigger. Empty. He was out of bullets. Moving to reload, he noticed he was completely empty. John began looking around frightfully, he saw a man aiming at the youngest of his fleet. Running up, he knocked the Red Coat over the head with his gun and checked his ammo. They weren’t the same bullets, and it was a gun Laurens wasn’t good at aiming with.

A gun cocked behind him. John turned frightfully and grabbed the pistol at the unconscious soldier’s side. Empty, the man already gave away his shot. Laurens was fretful, he looked for anything that could help him deflect the bullet, shuffling back in the dirt. The Red Coat smiled and aimed at his stomach, pressing the gun point into it and pulling the trigger.

“No!” He heard Mulligan yell. He felt no pain, but his eyes widened as he felt the warm wetness of blood coating the inside of his uniform.

“Commander Laurens, huh? To bad you ran outta bullets. Bet I’d be dead instead of you.” The Red Coat laughed. His uniform was a darker crimson in some places. He’d obviously already killed several others.

“H-heh… guess… s-so.” John laughed, smiling gently as a tear slipped down his face, the pain finally catching up with him. He gave a yell from it.

“John!” Mulligan called, his footsteps in the dirt getting louder as he approached, “Hey, hey! Help!” A gunshot went off and the man standing before John crumpled to the ground, dying from a shot to the head. He was lifted into strong arms, as Mulligan’s hand was placed over the bleeding wound.

“Let go of our commander!” One of Lauren’s soldiers yelled, the one he saved, “He’s already dying, don’t make it worse!”

Tears fell down Mulligan’s face. John smiled and raised a shaky hand to wipe a tear from his cheek, “Shh… H-herc. D-don’t be like t-this…”

“No, no John. Please, John. Stay alive.” Mulligan cried, placing his hand over John’s hand. It was slowly getting colder. He was dying, “No, no no no. Stay alive. Stay alive, you idiot! Stay alive, everyone needs you alive! The soldiers need you alive! Alex and Gil, they need you alive. Stay awake, don’t die!”

“Herc, p-please. Don’t make this h-harder…” John frowned, a few more tears spilling over the bottom of his eyes.

A few of the Red Coats came up and promptly shot the soldiers around Mulligan, staring at him as he held Laurens close to his body.

“Mulligan, this is the enemy.” One frowned.

“He was my friend before this war started!” Hercules sobbed, laying his head on Lauren's gently.

“Before the war. We’re in war now and you killed our best fighter!” Another yelled.

Mulligan grabbed the musket by him and aimed it at the Red Coats behind him. He pulled the trigger several times and killed all of them before once again standing, and beginning the walk towards the infirmary, carrying John in his arms.

“Herc… t-thanks.” Laurens thanked quietly.

“No, man. Don’t say thanks until you’re back home.”

“I’m not--”

“Don’t say it.”

“Herc, I’m not going ho-ome.”

         “Shut up. You will get home. I promise.” Hercules promised through his tears.

         “P-please, Herc. Don't… don't d-do th-this now…” John frowned, more tears falling down his face.

        Hercules Mulligan had known John Laurens since they had come to America. They were best friends. Now, with his friend on his deathbed, Hercules didn't want to put him down. He got to the British infirmary, he had wrapped Laurens in his coat as the nurses knew him by face. One of his friends, another man running with the Sons of Liberty saw Laurens and quickly waved him over to a small corner. 

    “Help him.” Hercules sobbed. The man- Alexander Tuller- looked over John and shook his head sadly.

    “I can't, Mulligan. It's a shot to the stomach. If he didn't die immediately from the bullet, he's gonna die from blood loss.” Tuller explained.

    “Please. Can you just help him, just a bit. I want to at least bring him back to you-know-where.” Hercules whispered, taking Laurens’ hair down and rubbing his head clean of sweat.

    “H-herc st-stop.” Laurens begged.

    “I need to get him to His Father.” ‘His Father’ is the name they had come up with to address Hamilton so that any Red Coats who may hear won't follow.

    “Mulligan it would take a miracle to do this. I can't stop him from bleeding for that amount of time.”

    “No! Help him! Please, help him! I'm begging you!”

    “No. I'm sorry.”

    “Then I'll get riding now. Tell them I went to restock on ammo.”

    “Alright. Good luck.” Tuller frowned. Hercules nodded and ran to saddle up a horse. He felt Laurens begin to go still in his arms.

    “John, sing for me. Please.”

    “H-herc… I--”

    “Please, it'll help. I promise.”

    “I may not live… to see our glory.” Laurens sang in a weak voice, “B-but I will gladly join the fight.”

    Mulligan rubbed tears and sweat from Lauren's’ face gently while getting onto the horse and taking the reins.

    “And… when our children… t-tell our st-” Laurens cut himself off as he coughed.

    “Keep going. Just keep singing. It'll help you.”

     “And when our children… tell our story… They'll tell the s-story of… tonight.” John took a gasp of air and buried his face in Mulligan’s shirt to muffle a scream of pain, new tears falling down his face.

    “Keep going. We're almost there. Keep singing.”

    It had been about an hour’s ride. Laurens had sung most of the way, singing of his Battalion, his friends, the war, freedom. Anything he could. Mulligan never ceased encouraging him to keep going. Soon Laurens couldn't keep singing. Hercules began talking to him. Laurens always responded, never able to stop talking to him. Two hours, three hours. Simple questions. “How’re you doing?” or “How old are you?” sometimes even “What's your name.” Anything to keep him talking. Soon he had John counting in every language he could.

    “French now. As high as you can.”

    “Un deux t-trois quatre cinq s-six sept huit neuf dix o-onze... douze t-treize quatorze quinze seize d-d-di-dix-sept dix-huit dix-n-neuf vingt… vingt et… u-un…” Laurens trailed off.

    “Good. Now Swahili.”

    “Moja mbili tatu nne tano sita saba nane tisa kumi.”

    “Sing a song in a different language.”

    “Herc I… I can't, I-I c-can’t b-breath right.” John went into another coughing fit, a trail of blood falling down his chin. Hercules rubbed it away quickly, brushing hair from Lauren's eyes.

    “Shh, okay. Just talk. That's all you need to do. Stay awake and talk to me. Ramble, just anything to stay awake and alive.” Hercules pleaded, his grip on the reins growing tighter as he willed the horse into a gallop.

    Four hours, five hours, nightfall. Mulligan kept his friend talking. They arrived in Manhattan near midnight. Mulligan jumped off of the horse and ran to Hamilton’s house, still carrying Laurens. He threw his shoulder against the door several times. Eliza answered, she held a steak knife, eyes widening when she saw Hercules.

    “Alexander!” she yelled, waving Mulligan in and motioning to the couch for him to lie Laurens on, “Alexander, come out here! Hurry!”

    “Yes, Eliza? What is it?” Came Alexander Hamilton's tired voice as he stumbled down the hall.

    “John Laurens and Hercules Mulligan!” She yelled. Eliza had tears in her own eyes as she removed John’s shirt and put a wet cloth over the bullet hole.

    “W-we ma-ade it?” Laurens asked, wincing as the cloth was placed over his wound. He felt Eliza’s delicate, but shaky hands rubbing his head- checking for a fever most likely.

    “They’re here?” Alex asked, his voice louder and more fretful.

    “Yes, hurry!” Eliza yelled, her voice’s pitch getting higher and more strained.

    Alex’s footsteps picked up. There were two more pairs following him. Phillip and Angie Mulligan  guessed. All three pairs stopped as Mulligan looked up, his face stained with tears. Alex rushed to the couch and looked down to see Laurens lying on it, wincing as Eliza moved to cloth to wet it again. He was sweating, his eyes closed in pain. John’s mouth was set in a strong grimace, as tears began to spill from his eyes. There were signs of blood having been rubbed from beneath his lips, his bottom lip stained a crimson red in some places.

    “John! Wha- what happened?” Alex yelled, quickly closing and locking the front door before going to his friend’s side and taking his shaking hand. He was cold, so cold. Alex felt tears brim in his eyes, his vision slowly getting blurry as he looked at the wound.

    “A red coat shot him. He was out of ammo and got cornered. I couldn't get there fast enough to stop him.” Mulligan choked out, “It's my fault. I shouldn't have gone to stop that other man. I should have watched John. I'm sorry!”

    “I may not live to see… our glory.” Laurens choked out as tears slipped down his face again, “But I will gladly join… t-the fight.”

    Alex pressed his forehead to Laurens’ as tears slowly fell from his eyes. Eliza bit her knuckles as Mulligan took Hamilton’s shoulder.

    “And when… our children tell our… story…” Laurens took a raspy breath as he began to finally die, “They’ll tell… the s-story of… t-tonight.”

    Alex’s body began to shake with silent sobs as he squeezed John’s hand tight. Mulligan finally broke down, a breathy sob breaking through his lips.

“Tomorrow there’ll be more of us…” Laurens went still. 

    Looking up as his eyes went blank. His hand went completely cold.  There was a brief moment of silence, as Alexander looked at John’s face, willing him to wake up. It was like the eye of a hurricane. Silence as the clock struck two thirty am, the sun beginning to rise on the horizon. A yellow sky, for a brief moment. Alex couldn't hold back his scream any longer. He let out an extremely loud mix between a sob and a scream as he began shaking Laurens’ limp body by the shoulders.

    “Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up! John wake up! Don't go! Come back, don't be gone! John please! Don't do this, wake up! Let this be a prank wake up!” Alex yelled as he began sobbing, “You can't do this! What about all of your soldiers, wake up! They need you to lead them! Wake up, John. Wake up! This isn't funny, wake up! Wake up right now! John please!”

    Mulligan took Alex by both arms and pulled him back from John. Alex’s vision was blurred. He spun around and slapped Hercules before turning back to John. Eliza stepped in front of the young man and took her husband’s hands.

    “Alex, stop. Look at Phillip and Angie. What example are you setting for them?” Eliza asked, motioning to the two crying children still standing in the entrance to the room. Phillip stood next to Angie, holding her hand as tears slowly streamed down his own face. Angie had put her hand over her mouth, leaning her head onto Philip's shoulder to muffle her sobs.

    “I… I have so much work to do.” Alex frowned, tears still streaming down his face, voice hoarse as he walked back to his office and lit another candle. He picked up his quill and began writing. It was the one thing he couldn't write. The death of his best friend, in his family home, the day after it was declared the war was over. Alex cupped a hand over his mouth as his frame once again shook with silent sobs. He drew a breath in through his nose and began writing.

  
_ A Testimony To Freedom _

_ On this day, a brave soldier has died. John Laurens, general of the first black Battalion in our new country was shot by a Red Coat in South Carolina. He was brought to my home in Manhattan by Hercules Mulligan, a spy and loyalist to the Sons of Liberty who had seen Laurens get shot. Mulligan kept him alive the entire ride to Manhattan, having John sing, answer questions, talk, or count in different languages. Let this be a testimony to equality. John Laurens has set the example, now allow his example to live on in his legacy as slavery shall end. _

_ -Alexander Hamilton  _

_ Twenty-Seventh, August, One Thousand Seven Hundred Eighty-Two. _


	2. HamBurr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You what?"
> 
> "I hate that I want you~"
> 
> "Rude."

Alex and Aaron had just been on a normal walk when it happened. Alex smiled wide turning to Aaron in a clearing of trees and began to sing.

"I love you-"

"What?" Aaron looked around expecting Eliza or maybe Angelica to be behind him.

"I hate you-"

"You what?"

"I hate that I want you~"

"Rude."

"You love her. You need her."

"Love who? Alex what the hell? I don't need-"

"I'll never be her." Alex looked down sadly.

"Be what? My boyfriend? Alexander Hamilton you are-

"Aaron, shut up. It's a song." Alex laughed.

"What song?"

"I Hate U I Love You by Gnash." The shorter explained. Burr began laughing quietly, a smile lighting up on his face. 

"You're an idiot."

"I'm also in love."

Alex grinned, stepping closer. He leaned up pressing a feather-light kiss to his lips. He was surprised to find Aaron kissed back, hungrily and forcefully, wrapping his arms around Alex's waist to pull him closer. Alex let him, looping his arms around Aaron's neck and letting his tongue into his mouth actually meeting it.

It seemed like so long yet not long enough later that they pulled away, both panting and holding onto eachother.

"I love you too, Alex."


	3. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a Laurens home beating gets out of hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya folks! It's been a long time! 
> 
> So, note the updated tags, this shot has child abuse and induced blindness. 
> 
> Be weary, please! Thanks!

John thought he was a good kid. He went to school, did his homework, never talked back, and all that stuff. So why? Why did his dad have to make him feel like he was bad? He always hit him, no reason to it. Sometimes a bottle was broken over his back, sometimes he used his belt. It didn't matter, he made everything hurt so bad.

 _Some nights the boy was unable to lie down in bed and sleep, his back hurt so much_.

But tonight, something was different. It was so much worse. His dad had tried to  _hit_ his little sister. What could John do? He didn't think, he took the hit for her. And then...  _he hit back **.**_

"Run Marty." John mumbled, he was eighteen, she was fifteen. John would be fine.

 _What a horrible assumption._  

The teen was shoved into a table, the bottom of his skull cracking on the corner of it and suddenly everything was black and hurt bad. And then his body was being lifted and thrown down, and something shattered on his body. He could feel the warm blood trickling down from his forehead and his eyes stung. _Why couldn't he see?_

There was a blur of pain and then footsteps leaving. He heard a cabinet open and the click of a gun and quickly stood running. He got to his dad's office, he thought, and fumbled along the knob and locked the door. He shoved something under it for good measure as well.

Quickly, John stumbled to the desk and felt around. Plastic, it felt like a phone. He picked it up pressing it to his ear. There was the dead line ring! Perfect! He quickly pressed the three numbers he hoped to God were right.

.

..

...

"911 what is your emergency?" He was saved.


End file.
